


Your quiet sounds echo my heart (In golden confinement I have you)

by Barriss



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Blood Play, Choking, F/M, Gen, Loki/Sif - Freeform, NSFW, Porn, Sifki - Freeform, Smut, Strangling, loki x sif - Freeform, sif x loki, sif/loki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2199585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barriss/pseuds/Barriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sif had heard the saying 'Silence is golden' many times before, but never had she felt it on her own skin quite like this. SifxLoki. Takes place before the events of Thor (2011).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your quiet sounds echo my heart (In golden confinement I have you)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> So my fic spree is continuing with yet another ship I've never written before. I've actually been working on this for a long time and only managed to finish it now.
> 
> Before you read, please note that there is some mild strangling and soft-core blood play in this fic, so if you're not into that kind of thing, please don't read.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading.

Banquets may have been a gayety loved by many, but to Lady Sif it was all just a meaningless form of debauchery that gave neither pleasure nor satisfaction to the Goddess of War. Yet she remained where she stood, hidden from view behind a large marble pillar, quietly sipping from her goblet and trying to appear as though she would not wish to be anywhere else out of duty and courtesy for the hosts as well as her friends.

She was not alone in her grief however, as another felt very much the same, if not even more displeased than she.

Sif met Loki’s eyes only briefly, but something in his face, his expression, as he looked at her made even she lower her head and remove her gaze from his. A burning sensation surfaced on her skin and she thought it was perhaps due to the few glasses of mead she had indulged in. Or perhaps, in some odd way, it was the feeling of the God of Mischief piercing her with the intensity of his eyes from the other end of the room that urged the young woman to lower her head like a shy maiden.

Thinking he had stood at a distance had been wrong however, for the moment she raised her eyes, she found the dark haired son of Odin merely a few steps away, gazing down at her with an impish smirk that she knew could not mean well, yet charmed her all the same.

“It is a pity,” he said in greeting, his voice honey and lime, “that someone as ravishing as you my lady, would have a frown on her gentle brow during an auspicious event such as this.

“Banquets are no training grounds, Loki,” she replied stiffly, “and this dress is no armor. I am not in my own habitat and thus uncomfortable with my surroundings, as I am sure you feel the same way; banquets are no libraries and goblets are no books, yes?” And this she said with a grin that was knowing as much as it was cheeky.

Loki’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, apparently her words having taken him by surprise, which was not an easy task to accomplish when it came to the Son of Secrets. Sif immediately felt a prickle of pride in being one to bring out such a reaction from him.

His stupefaction quickly faded and his lips loosened into an amused and approving smirk. “You know me well, Sif. Should I be concerned?”

“Only if what I know could be disadvantageous to you, and I am not quite certain this qualifies as such. You are too cautious and thus always a mystery, my friend.”

At this he laughed a cold yet attractive laugh that in turn raised a smile on her own lips.

“It appears, fair Lady Sif, that we both find ourselves in less than agreeable surroundings,” Loki said and bowed his head to her. “Perhaps you would care to join me in finding a more… enjoyable setting where we may converse?”

There was darkness in his tone that sent a faint shiver down her spine and whether it was good or bad she did not know, but she found herself nodding and agreeing to everything he suggested. For a moment, as she placed her hand in his and let him lead her out into the halls of the Imperial Palace, she wondered if he had put some spell over her, but after considering it, she knew that was not the case, for the knot in her lower abdomen was nothing but her own body screaming to accept him and everything he had to offer.

“Will it be my bedchambers or yours?” Sif asked, unwilling to play along in unnecessary games. They both knew the direction they were walking in and she had no patience for silly wordplay or fake pretenses.

“Sif,” he smiled and shook his head disappointedly, an action which irritated her completely, but she let him finish nonetheless, “I would have hoped you would be more original than that.” With a low chuckle, he stopped and pulled her through a door she had not even noticed they had approached and shut it tight behind them.

“What?!” she gasped and her eyes widened as they fell on the massive golden bed that stood gloriously in the middle of the room they had invaded, and with horror, she realized where they now were.

“The Allfather’s bedchamber!”

Surely he did not intend to -

“Shh!” he pressed his index finger to his lips and slowly trotted over to where she stood. “Father has ears all around us; you must keep silent lest you wish us to be discovered.” The glint of mischief in his eyes made their brilliant green stand out among the golden gleam that shone all around the great bedroom, and as he got ever closer, she felt the same flicker ignite somewhere in her own brown ones.

Sif happily welcomed his lips onto hers, eagerly responding to his tongue as it went past her teeth and deep into her mouth where it explored every inch it could reach.

They exhaled breathy moans as their tongues twirled and swirled around each other with fiery haste, arms encircling the other’s backs and hands sinking into soft dark hair.

His mouth on hers made Sif’s core throb with urgent need, and it surprised her that her body reacted this way merely from kissing; she shuddered to think what she would feel when his lips would trail lower, over more sensitive parts of her body.

She wondered if he could read her thoughts, though it would not surprise her if he had, for the very next second, with the flick of his hand, her dress was unlaced from the back and fell to the floor, forming a pool of glimmering silver around her ankles and leaving her bare before him, fully exposed under the hunger of his gaze. Yet there was no feeling of vulnerability in her, on the contrary, it was empowering seeing the great God of Mischief himself heave breaths of boundless desire and lick his lips in a starving fashion as he gazed upon her.

He looked like a beast that would nothing short of devour her once he had her in his grasp, and Sif in turn shook in readiness, wanting nothing more than to be taken and be preyed upon by this hungry man in front of her.

She kept her head held high like the proud woman she was and waited for him to fall at her feet, to pleasure her with the enthusiasm and vigor she expected.

Loki however seemed to have a different plan. He surprised Sif by lifting her up in his arms, with greater ease than one would expect from a meager frame such as his, and carried her to the bed the Allfather shared with his queen, where he gently laid her down on its silken covers. She would have berated him for treating her in such a demeaning way, but they had to be cautious and silent for as not to notify anyone of their unwonted entry of the regal suite, so she said nothing and waited for him to make amends with his body, mouth or hands.

Ashamed as Sif was, her core still throbbed for the slender prince in front of her and she became restless as she laid waiting on the fine pearl-colored sheets, the notion of lying fully bare on this bed as disconcerting as it was thrilling.

There was an insolent smirk playing on Loki's lips as he looked down on her from the edge of the bed, which only grew in width as she involuntarily began writhing and pressing her thighs together in attempt to mute the building desire within.

Yet the fiend did not come to her and instead took to calmly pace around the room, slowly removing his clothing, piece by accursed piece, while she lay there unable to scream at or pounce on the blasted man that tormented her. She ground her teeth and threw him the dirtiest of glares; she would repay him for his gall later, that she silently swore to them both.

It felt like millennia had passed since he had started undressing. He was still several items of clothing short before he would finish and Sif just could hold on no longer. Her hand had already found its way between her legs and she gasped when the tip of her finger came in contact with her already wetted center.

Loki glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow and looked slightly impressed by her taking things literally into her own hands.

They stared at each other as she continued to pleasure herself. Her bottom lip ached, for she had to sink her teeth into it to refrain from making the tickling stimulation in her core audible. She spread herself open with two fingers, exposing the pink little nub inside and with the ones from her other hand grasped the tiny lump of flesh and applied the smallest amount pressure that still made her jaw open and her body jerk involuntarily.

She kept pinching her clitoris and stroking herself, now too lost in her self-gratification to even care about Loki or the fact that he was now moving three times quicker than before and panting harshly, unable to remove his eyes from the motions of her hands. And so lost was she that she only noticed he was on the bed when he took her hands in his and removed them from her center, only to replace them with his thin lips.

Sif's jaw fell the moment his mouth came in contact with her most sensitive spot and her face scrunched up as lightning coursed through her body when he ran his lips over her soft flesh. He kissed her as he would on her mouth, chastely and delicately at first, barely brushing his lips over her folds, then gradually deeper, pinching her flesh with his lips, sucking, and thrusting his tongue in and all over her sex.

The shieldmaiden would have cried out had she not had such excellent control of her body, for the sensations caused by him as he fed from her center would have made the entire court aware of what they were doing by the ragged screams that ached to flee from her throat. His tongue gave her palpitations as it swirled and flittered around and over the tiny bundle of nerves between her folds; she could feel her muscles clench whenever he would apply more pressure than her body could handle or when his lips puckered around her clitoris to suck on it in a way that was almost impossible to bear.

She could not take it much longer. It would have been easy for her to simply give in and let herself be overwhelmed by his hot mouth, but it would be a shame to end it only so without taking advantage of Loki's very visible, very enlarged desire for her. She could see his arousal flinching and throbbing as he devoured her; it was surprising how he had yet to jump on her and take her for all she was worth, to unleash the rabid animal within and claim his territory. Heavens how she wished he did.

As divine as his mouth felt, Sif lowered her hand to his head, slowly pushed his face away by the forehead and forced him to look at her.

His chin shone with her juices and his eyes were darker than the night sky as he gazed at her. After licking his lips clean, he slithered upward and Sif expected him to kiss her, and then complete their act with that desired push. But again, the damned man took a different route.

His large hands cupped her breasts, expertly molding them into his palms and the tips of his thumbs pressed down on her rosy nipples, rolling and flicking her tips until she began writhing in agony beneath him. His lips trailed kisses down the valley between her breasts while his hands massaged her mounds, forcing Sif to battle with herself to stop the moans that threatened to escape.

How could he torture her so without even batting an eyelash? Even as her back arched into him, pushing her chest forward and pressing her breasts into his hands, Sif cursed Loki to Hel and beyond, wanting nothing more than to send him there by her own glaive.

She hated him passionately in that moment, yet with all the anger and frustration, the shieldmaiden yearned for the dark-haired prince more than ever. She wanted him to spread her open and drown himself within her. As he shifted on top of her to take one of her nipples between his lips, she felt his stiff length brush against her thigh, making her desire increase tenfold.

The contact of his erection with her skin made Sif draw in a deep breath of air and Loki hiss in arousal. In his manic state, he clenched his hands around her breasts and bit down on her taut peak as his body stiffened and his manhood twitched against her leg.

She gasped and wrinkled her face at the pain and the confusing sensation it became when combined with the pooling excitement in her core.

In a rage, her hand shot up and curled itself around Loki's throat, squeezing and pushing him off of her. She threw him onto the bed and climbed on top, reversing their positions.

Sif still had her hand around his throat, letting a bit of her fury gush out as she strangled him. She did not apply a deadly force but enough to make the prominent vein in his forehead pop out and cover his usual pale skin in a rosy shade, similar to the pink roses his Queen Mother grew in one of the royal gardens.

Not surprisingly, for she knew the young man too well, Loki seemed to be enjoying the lack of air as much as she enjoyed denying him of it. His eyes had glossed over and a large dreamy smile spread on his lips as she tightened her hold on his neck.

Her legs straddled over his middle and she hovered directly above his manhood, which stood at attention and tantalizingly twitched every now and then as he stared up at her with a dreamy, breathless gaze. Those emerald eyes then widened when her free hand wrapped around his girth and gently stroked his moist tip. He tried to gasp but Sif's hold on his neck prevented him from doing so.

His cold hands found their way to her hips and squeezed her flesh harshly, trying to pull her down and sink himself into her wet heat. But the trickster's meager strength couldn't even sway the warrior and Sif remained unmoved, with one hand clutching his neck, while the other slowly massaged his harndess.

She loosened her grip around his throat every now and then to allow him a few necessary breaths, as well as halt her motions on his erection when she would feel it quiver in her hold, moment in which she would quickly lower her hand and firmly grasp him at the base. Sif did this several times, getting him close to release then cruelly blocking him off, prolonging his suffering just as Loki had done hers.

He glared hatefully at her from below and a thin trickle of blood dripped down from his bottom lip where his teeth had pierced flesh in his own painful attempts at remaining silent. The deep crimson of his lips reminded Sif of the euphoric thrill of battle, of the satisfaction of drawing blood from the enemy and the power coursing through her veins as she'd claim victory over her foes. Her core throbbed as the pleasurable memories mixed with the pleasure of her body, and it showed as it dripped out of her, onto her hand and down his manhood, lubricating his skin and helping her motions become more fluid.

With a bit of extortion on her part, Sif bent down and eagerly captured his lips, relishing in his hot breath mixing with hers as well as in the metallic taste of his blood on her tongue. They both breathed rapid breaths through their noses as their tongues danced around each other and Loki shivered under her when she bit down on his bottom lip and sucked on his wound, drinking his blood as if she were enjoying the juice of a sweet fruit.

What they were doing was vile and sinful, and they would surely be shunned by the court of Asgard should they ever be found, but when these two misfits came together, everything came into place. It was a dirty world they shared, but it was the only place in which they could be themselves.

"Sif." Loki breathed her name against her lips as if in prayer, and she lifted her head to look upon his face. They stared at each other, dark brown at brilliant green, need and want contrasting with the colors to form an abstract painting of what their bodies required and desired.

Slowly, Sif raised herself and straightened her back, gazing down at him through hooded eyes, and after inhaling a deep breath, she carefully lowered herself until the tip of his sex came in contact with the bud of her own.

Loki watched in awe as his tip spread her folds apart and gently entered her, his muscles visibly clenching with every agonizing inch and when her walls covered his head completely, he lost control and let a murmur of a growl escape his lips. He once again began chewing on his injured lip, making more of his sweet blood fall down his chin. It looked painful, but at least it stopped the sounds that seemed so difficult to contain.

It was difficult for her as well. The thunder that roared through her body as she impaled herself was so powerful Sif had to stop mid motion to keep herself from crumbling. She sat there unmoving, with only his tip inside of her, shaking from head to toe in complete delirium.

Only after a few difficult breaths did she regain control of her body, and after bracing herself by leaning forward and resting her hands on his pale chest, Sif slowly continued her descent until at long last her walls swallowed him completely.

He was long and firm inside of her and she was tight around him, so they could feel every ridge, every nook and cranny of each other as they joined.

Their movements were slow, agonizing and beautiful. Her hips gently moved to and fro as she tried to accustom herself to his girth, while he stood morbidly still, with his eyes closed, his lips parted, and his hands firmly clenched around her middle, completely immersed in Nirvana.

She panted quick short breaths as her tempo steadily increased and Sif began raising herself higher, letting his shaft almost out before plunging back and taking all of him in again, only to repeat the choreography until all was perfect.

And how perfect he felt inside of her. His length was nothing but ideal and his girth did not leave a single inch of her untouched, his hardness perfectly rubbing against her inner walls and touching the perfect spots as it did so.

Loki gazed up at her with something akin to reverence, his eyes moist with unbearable bliss and his hands caressing her skin with newfound delicacy, as if afraid to tarnish her perfect being.

She cupped his hands with her own, intertwined their fingers and brought them up to her chest, where she let him feel the wild thumping of her heart. With her eyes on him, she let the prince see what he had created, what he had caused and how she hoped he felt the same.

In his arms, the Goddess of War became nothing but a woman, whose glance wavered before his eyes, whose flesh colored under his touch and whose body crumbled above his.

Sif’s mouth hung open and her head rose to stare at the heavens, her pleasure wild and supreme over her being.

And Loki harmonized in opinion and feeling, which he expressed by bucking his hips and pushing into her with tireless vigor. In the wake of his thrusts were left impossible tingling and aching sensations, the muscles of her core already contracting from the strain of their meeting.

Without pause, she raised her hips high and pushed back down with greater strength, sliding her wet sheathe up and down his girth, moistening him with her desire from tip to base. With every thrust she felt him deeper and deeper, with every sway his length brushed against those sensitive patches in her core, with every small motion he brought her closer and closer to madness.

She heard Loki seethe her name in a barely audible prayer and the shieldmaiden understood the range of its meaning as she felt his erection twitch inside her, signaling the nearing of his release. Increasing the speed and force of her movements, she pounded her hips onto his until the trickster’s head fell back and she felt the burst of his climax inside herself.

Seeing him in such rapture forced her own orgasm to release and combine with his, forming a lewd mix of desire, sex and shame inside her core. Her body stiffened and her mouth fell as the overwhelming sensation took her to new heights she had never experienced before. To keep herself from screaming, she buried her fingernails in Loki’s bare chest and grit her teeth painfully.

The prince as well looked like he was waging the greatest of wars with himself as he spurted his seed inside of her, biting his lip once again, deepening his already existing injury and making more blood flow down his chin.

“You complete madman!” Sif hissed through her teeth, looking down at this horrible man with what should be loathing, but was nothing but intoxicating lust.

When reason began returning and the gravity of what they had just done began sinking in, that blinding lust made way for terrible logic, which only made the knowledge of what had just happened even more unbearable.

“Do not play _that_ part, you are just as mad as me,” Loki whispered, his smile wide and condescending, good enough to step on.

The shieldmaiden sneered at the man below her, wishing she could deny it with a straight face; she knew she could not, so in the end she said nothing at all. Slowly, she raised herself, both of them inhaling sharply as she unsheathed his now softened sex from hers.

Slowly but quickly, she began dressing herself, the fear of being found out beginning to press harder on her shoulders, and trying her best to avoid Loki as best she could while busying herself with tying up her gown. After desecrating the Allfathers’s chamber and the bed he shared with his queen in such a vile way, Sif had never felt more ashamed nor enraged with herself.

“This is all your fault,” she spat, just loud enough so he could catch her spite.

“I’m not the one who was so eager less than a half hour ago, my lady.” The knave’s grin was as if stuck to his face and did not lessen for a moment whilst he arranged his armor.

“You - “ she grit her teeth, feeling an unspeakable urge to punctuate her venomous words with a fist on his cheek. Instead of succumbing to anger though, she turned her back to him. “I wish to see no more of you!”

She ignored the cackle he did not bother to hide.

After they were both at last in a state of exterior decency, for on the inside there was nothing decent about what either of them felt, Loki surprised Sif by appearing behind her and encircling her waist with his arms. His face nuzzled the side of her head, inhaling her scent and chuckling in her ear.

“Dear Sif, I do so love it when you play pretend.”

Even though she wished for nothing more than to escape his grasp, her body would not allow it. She relaxed so easily in his hold, whatever power he had on her being strong enough to quell even the Goddess of War’s mighty temper.

With a mutual sigh, the two parted and Sif let Loki lead the way back into the fortunately deserted palace halls.

Before retreating to their respective rooms, both having had quite enough of parties and ‘good’ company for the night, their tired but intense gazes met briefly, wordlessly acknowledging their satisfaction and appreciation, if only for the brief moment of madness they had shared.

And would probably share again very soon.

 


End file.
